


Dead End: Safety is overrated

by Jadedwriter42



Series: Dead End [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Gore, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22267666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadedwriter42/pseuds/Jadedwriter42
Summary: A viral infection attacking O blood type goes airborne and starts taking people left and right. To try and stop other people from being infected, the governments of the world take all people with O blood to bases where they can go through their illness and then die.But something strange happens; they come back.I had my best friend ripped from my grasp when they weren't even sick. I remember exactly what was happening when we got the news that the government was being ripped apart by their own prisoners. The country went nuts, so many people died.And that was before the dead started going after us.It's been three months since that day. I lost my mom when one of them took a bite out of her neck and we had to leave her in the middle of the street.That was the last day I kept track of the date. Saturday, October 15th, 2019.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Dead End [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602880





	Dead End: Safety is overrated

Dad pulls into a grocery store parking lot and parks off to the side. It's strange seeing a man who used to take five minutes to park perfectly, take no time at all and not care about the lines anymore. I wonder if he thinks he's parking like a jackass subconsciously, old habits die hard. He and Ray turn back from the front seat at Daniel, Aaron, and I. Dad's hair falls into his eyes. I wonder if it annoys him. 

"Same as always. You know what to do, where you can go. If there's any more of them, you make sure to tell us. Don't engage unless you have to. Stay safe, stay together."  
Every week. Every week we go down to town and gather supplies. An hour at most, in and out. we've pretty much scraped the last of the resources we could from the grocery store weeks ago, but it's the best rendezvous point we have. Dad's the getaway driver in case shit goes south, Aaron and I are heading down the block to the Wal-mart to find anything we can use, and Daniel and my dad are heading out to the woods to check snare traps and harvest wild plants. 

Ray checks his rounds and clicks the safety off of his handgun, pointing it down at the floor. He hands the only other handgun to dad. And, while I'm not thrilled to only have melee weapons, we're only teens and we don't have training. Raymond served in the military, thankfully he was discharged before the outbreak. And dad was briefed on how to use one when we got here.  
Daniel unzips the duffel with all of our blunt weapons and pulls out Aaron's baseball bat and a shovel for himself. I have my kitchen knife.

Aaron fixes his baseball cap more securely to his head, and we shift ourselves towards the back of the van. I rest my hand on the handle and wait for Ray's signal. He gets out of the car and takes a quick look around, then bangs the palm of his hand on the roof of the van. I open the back door and hop out, my old converse clomping on the pavement.  
"Aaron, Zach, look for food, clothes, hygiene products, and anything to keep Ryan and the rest of us busy. Take the biggest duffel." Ray says, pulling a sack from the van and tossing it over to me. I sling it over my shoulder and readjust the kitchen knife in my belt to not poke me. Ray nods at us, having finished his marching orders, so the two of us head down the sidewalk past a few buildings to the paradise of the apocalypse, Wal-mart. No one's touched it since the outbreak, considering that the place is crawling with those things. I'd rather not call them zombies because it feels too childish. "Zombie" has nothing on what they are. But I haven't thought of a good enough word yet. 

"Remember, we can't talk above a whisper in there or there's a huge possibility we'll be eaten," Aaron tosses his bat into the air and almost doesn't catch it. He fumbles with the bat and nearly trips and lands on his face. I almost can't keep my laugh in. 

"You're a fucking dork, you know that? I think you need to be reminded that more than I do."  
He composes himself and shoves me playfully. I almost trip off the sidewalk and onto the road, and under normal circumstances, I would have been afraid of being hit by a car, but we aren't under normal circumstances anymore. And besides, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have met Aaron at all. 

We reach the entrance to the store and we pry open the doors together. I shove a shopping cart between the doors to keep them from closing, just in case that still happens. We open the second doors as quiet as we can, and head on our way. We walk past the McDonald's near the entrance, despite my urge to try and salvage anything, (Aaron reminded me that the power's been out for at least a month now and everything is spoiled by now) and even further past the cashiers. 

"Maybe we can get some candy bars and soda?" I whisper to him. He shrugs and glances over at the nearest cashier station, and his eyes widen. I look over to see what he's looking at and see what looks like someone who used to be a cashier. A teen, maybe a year older than us. Her ankle is broken, and she's dragging it behind her. There's a raspy wheeze coming from her throat.  
My breathing quickens and I fumble for the kitchen knife at my belt.

"What do we do?" I ask, my eyes darting from the zombie to Aaron. He looks just as scared and confused as I am.  
"I don't know! Ray said not to engage, but if we don't engage she might get us!!"

I look around for something to do and spot the changing rooms a few paces from us. I tap Aaron with the blunt edge of my knife and gesture to the room. He pats me once on the shoulder and shuffles over, fixing his cap.

"You're a genius, Zach!" 

The tips of my ears heat up from the validation, despite myself. Nothing but attention can make my mind wander from a life or death situation. 

I can see Aaron opening the door and checking to see if it's safe. He waves his arms and gives me a thumbs up, so I take a deep breath and face her. Her arms are outstretched and her mouth agape. Her eyes are unblinking and unfocused, she's not even looking at me. There are several bites on her arms and through her uniform. I take a step back towards Aaron, making sure she's not close enough to grab me. A few more paces back and I'm next to Aaron. She takes a few more steps and as soon as she's close enough, Aaron grabs her torso and pulls her into the room. I slam the door and push a clothing rack against it to make sure she can't get out. 

"That kinda sucks," Aaron whispers, breathing deep, trying to get his anxiety under control. "If she was alive she'd be pretty."

I can't disagree, but it's not the same picturing. It would have been better to come here together if there weren't so many zombies, so we could see her when she was alive and then talk about it as we were leaving the store. But, no such luck. 

"We're in the clothes section, so we should start here. You get the guys clothes, I'll get the girls?" I suggest. He nods, sighing a bit, and turns to head to the men's section. I pause, then turn back to tell him:

"Hey, get me a pair of boots, my shoes are falling apart!"

He turns back and nods, grabbing at one of the straps to his backpack before turning and disappearing into the dark. Which reminds me, Flashlights would probably be a good thing.  
I start where I am, which is the shirts. It's getting to be quite cold, so I get more than enough for all of them, so they can layer. Dad's told me that the best thing to get is just T-shirts, no frilly or fancy clothing. So I grab short sleeves, tank tops, long sleeves, and sweaters. They all go in the bag. The next section is pants. How do girl sizes work?  
"Zero? How is that even possible?" I whisper to myself.

Well, It's safer to just grab a bunch of random sizes. Next time, I'll make sure to ask about sizes. I move on to the next aisle.  
Underwear.

Now, I know that I'm a teenage boy and I shouldn't be this immature about bras and panties, but it's how I was trained. Having a three to one ratio made them a rare sight in my house.  
Gotta learn to not be too embarrassed around it, might as well grin and bear it. I start to throw whatever I can into the bag, even though I barely know what I'm taking. I grab quite a few pairs of socks from the end of the aisle too and then make my way to the men's section. 

"Zach, Zach!" I hear Aaron's hoarse voice coming from a few feet away. He's distressed, I can hear it in his voice. And he's been whispering too much. I hike up the bag and start to run towards his voice. There's a small pile of men's clothes in the middle of the carpet. 

Not far away, Aaron is underneath a dude trying to eat his face. Since he's dead, there's no regulation of his body weight so Aaron's trying to keep what looks like a 200-pound dude at arm's length with a high school baseball bat. His cap is strewn across the floor. He notices me in the corner of my eye and wheezes.

"Help me!"

I grab the Zombie's shirt collar and pull him off of Aaron. The zombie falls over and grunts in response to the movement and tries to get up. I drop down on him by my knees and hold him down while Aaron catches his breath. 

"What do I do?" I ask, pinning the zombie down. Aaron coughs and gets up on his knees.

"Well, we can't exactly trap this one! He was practically trying to make out with me!"

I groan and pin his arms with my knees, fumbling for the knife at my belt once again. The bag is getting in my way, fuck. 

I practically growl as I throw the bag to Aaron and rip the knife from its belt loop.

"Get the head! The head!" Aaron reminds me. In a panic, I shove the knife through his neck and press down as hard as I can, practically slicing his head clean off. His body goes limp and the head rolls to the side, his tongue sliding out of his mouth to rest on the carpeted floor. I get off of the body and grab Aaron's shoulder for support.

"So gross."

Aaron takes a step forward and kicks the head off to the side where we can't see it anymore.

"We're going to have to get used to this. There's probably a bunch more. If we weren't this quiet we would probably have seen tons more by now. We just have to be more careful."

We take a few more seconds to calm ourselves and then turn to the pile of clothes Aaron collected, as well as the bag of clothes I collected for the girls. 

"We won't have to carry everything in the bag if we can make some room in our bags or change our clothes," I mutter to him. He bends down and unclips the chest strap of his bag and shrugs it onto the floor. I pull a few racks closer to us and arrange them in a circle so there's no worry of being jumped again by those things. There’s barely enough room to breathe now, but better safe than sorry until we’re ready to move to the next area. It’s even darker under the racks than it is in the rest of the building. I kneel next to him and dump the rest of the clothes out of the duffel and take my pack off too. 

"We can fold them too, so they fit easier. That way, we can get more food and supplies." 

Aaron starts to fold the clothes with expert precision, exactly how an employee would, which makes sense considering it was his job before. I start sorting the clothes between the things that we can wear and the things we can’t. For sure, we can’t wear any of the girls' clothes, or Ryan’s, since we’re about twice his size. I pick out a shirt, sweatshirt, and jeans to wear and toss the boots to the side. 

“Did you grab any hats or beanies?” I ask as he folds another shirt, tossing one aside that he’s chosen to wear. 

“Why?” He murmurs back. 

“Well, it’s getting pretty windy. I don’t want my ears to get cold.”

Aaron pushes his baseball cap up a little so the bill is pointed upwards and glances at me with an exasperated expression. My eyes dart up to his hat.

“You sure play with that thing a lot.” I chuckle under my breath. Aaron rolls his eyes but cracks a smile. 

“Reminds me of the simpler times. It reminds me of how my parents would fuss over how my games went more than I did. Reminds me that I’m still who I was before, not this rat that comes into town to get what I can eat and get out.” 

His smile doesn’t fade, but I can feel a twinge of sadness in his voice when he mentions his parents. I met his mom. His dad died before we met when the country went fucking crazy. His mom, his grandfather and he found the camp we live in now about a week before my family did. His grandpa’s still alive, and a bit of a prick at that. But his mom, she died when we were out on one of these trips. Bad timing is all, it was no one’s fault. One of them got a hold of her, took a chunk out of her throat, and that was that. It’s why we don’t go into the drugstore anymore. We couldn’t get the job done. No one could put her out of her mercy. 

I reach out and gently put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. He turns away and I can hear a sniffle. 

Should I hug him? What do I do?

Suddenly something dark comes flying towards my face. The soft object hits me and lands in my lap. A beanie. Aaron turns to me, smiling a genuine, toothy smile. I jab his arm and put it on.  
We sit in silence and finish folding the clothes and putting them away, leaving all but our outfits out. 

“We should take turns. No use of us both being vulnerable at the same time.” Aaron says, gathering up his outfit. I nod, understanding. If they come for us and we’re naked or putting a shirt on, we’re goners for sure.

“I can crawl out and make sure there’s no one out there while you change,” I whisper back. He shrugs in understanding, and I crawl through the racks, letting clothes brush against my back. A quick check shows that there aren’t any near us, so I pull myself out and stand, kitchen knife in hand. 

Now that I think about it, it’s kind of stupid that I have a kitchen knife. I mean, I know that it’s more realistic than in movies, but come on. Realistic isn’t cool. I want a belt of knives and a gun that I know how to use without ever being taught how to. Like a real zombie apocalypse. But no, I have to be stuck with a stupid kitchen knife as my only weapon.

Wait. 

This is wal-mart. Even before we moved here, there was always a hunting section. Maybe there would be something! The others could have something to defend themselves when the only two guns are away.

Man, why the hell have we never come here?

Right, because this place is crawling with zombies and, no matter how much I love my Dad and Daniel and respect Ray, they’re not the quietest people. 

Something moves in my peripheral and I jump back, gripping the knife in my hand and trying very hard to keep my breathing steady. The figure walks to me, but there’s no stagger in their step. I can’t hear any gasping, at least, not close gasping. The figure gets closer and I see them put a finger to their lips. I lower the knife.

They come into view, and it’s not a zombie. I can see the whites of their eyes in the dark, watch their pupils follow me.

“Who are you?” They ask. I strain my eyes to get a good look at them, but I can only make out a few things. They’re taller than me. They have short hair or long hair and it's just in a ponytail.  
I don’t know if I should answer. Don’t talk to strangers, right? But, well, it’s not like there are many strangers anymore.

“You first,” I reply. I hear them let out an amused sigh, and they step closer to me. 

“right, my name’s Oak. I live down the street. Used to be with my family, but they all died a few weeks ago. Normal, right? But, I’ve never seen anyone else here before, so that’s not normal. It’s your turn. Who are you?”

“We live a ways away from here, in a mechanic shop off the freeway. A few people from my group come here every week to look for supplies, but this is the first time we’ve ever tried here.”  
There’s shuffling behind me, and Oak whips out a knife. Aaron’s head pops out from the racks and looks around.

“Z, who are you talking to?” 

He steps out, looking cleaner than usual and it’s mostly because of the clothes. He has a sweatshirt on and fresh jeans, with a pair of hiking boots. His now chunkier bag is fastened back safely onto his back, and he’s holding the duffel. The only thing he’s wearing that hasn’t changed is his hat, which is understandable. 

I gesture to oak and introduce them.

“They’re alone. Apparently, they’ve been here this whole time.”

Aaron comes around behind me and examines Oak.

“I would appreciate your group not riling up the zombies every week. You aren’t the most stealthy of people.”

They’re not whispering, but their voice is so soft that I can barely hear it anyway.

“You can come with us, I’m sure it won’t be a problem. Ray never refuses a place to stay.”

“And we could use an extra hand or two to help with supplies.”

Oak laughs for a reason I’m not sure of. Maybe they laugh when they’re nervous, but that doesn’t seem like the case.

“Why are you laughing?” I ask. They step closer to us.

“You said you could use a hand or two.”

They reach out and take my hand, pulling it up. They bring my hand to their other arm and guide me down the length. It stops at the elbow.

“I can only give you one.”

I can feel Aaron looking at us, baffled. He still doesn’t know what they’re talking about. I grab Aaron’s hand and do the same thing as Oak did with me. 

Aaron pulls away and starts breathing harder.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I-”

Oak laughs.

“It’s alright, I was born like this. I thought it was funny, not offensive.”

Aaron lets out an exasperated sigh and turns to me to change the subject.

“Go get changed, We’ll head to the next section after you’re done.”

I think he’s just desperate for a subject change so his embarrassment can subside, but he’s still right. We have to get going if we want to get anything else. I nod and duck my head under the clothes and bend down. The outfit I picked out is lying on the floor next to my bag. I peel off my jacket and shirt and look over my arms and torso for cuts and bruises. When I come back clean, I pull on an undershirt, a sweater, and a hoodie overtop. I shimmy out of my pants and pull a clean pair on, and then lace up the boots Aaron got me. They fit well, and they’re sturdy, so they’ll last longer. I shrug on my pack and tug the beanie over my head. I move the racks so I don’t have to duck under them again and nod to Aaron. Wait, something’s wrong.

“Where’s Oak?” I ask under my breath. Aaron shrugs.

“They said they were going to get a headstart on supplies while I waited for you. But we should be careful, we don’t really know them, they could be waiting to kill us.”

I shrug and nod. I’ve seen that way too many times in Zombie shows. Well, serious zombie shows.

Aaron hikes the duffel up on his shoulders and we set off, keeping on the carpet since it doesn’t make as much noise. We make our way to the grocery section, and, avoiding the meat section very easily because of the smell, start to pick out canned items. 

“We should get bread, does that spoil?” I ask. Aaron nods.

“The bread spoiled a while ago. Only cans for us, maybe the occasional box. And remember to get water.”

I nod and chuckle a little. We pick out everything salvageable, and I lug a case of water off the shelf and onto my shoulder. 

“Alright, let’s get moving to hygiene and books, I can’t carry this thing all day,” I mumble, not keen on sharing my lack of strength with him. He readjusts the duffel so it hits on his hip instead of his leg, and we start our walk to the book section. I can hear moans louder here, and it makes me on edge. My eyes shift left to right, and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. I can see one of them crouched over, possibly feeding on something. As long as it doesn’t know we’re here, everything is good and well. 

A good portion of the books on display or either gone or strewn across the floor. I can barely make out the covers, but I gently drop the case of water onto the floor and grab a dozen or so books of different sizes. Aaron stuffs them all into the duffel, which has just enough room for the last of what we need. I hoist the case back onto my shoulders and I turn around.

“Hey! Nice to see you two again, I thought you might have been dead by now.” Oak whispers, two full baskets of supplies in their hand. Smart, using the baskets. Why didn’t we think of that?  
“What’s in there?” I ask, peering into the baskets a little. 

“Stuff from the pharmacy. Medicine, bandages, pads, and tampons. Some stuff from the sporting goods section, knives and such. I would’ve gotten some fishing rods too, but I’m not sure how close you are to water.” 

I let out a breath of extreme relief and smile. We don’t have to be here anymore, excellent. And with all three of us having our hands full, it’s not going to be fun if we run into a zombie. I could probably throw the water case at them, but that’ll make everything worse with the sound. I reach out, gesturing to let me take one of the baskets from Oak, but they shake their head. My hand drops to my side and I push the case of water further onto my shoulder. A groan comes from behind me, and I look behind to see two zombies who’ve noticed that we’re not dead yet. 

“It’s time to go,” Aaron mumbles, trying to keep his voice calm. He saw them too, and I doubt that Oak hasn’t. I turn and head to the front of the store, which is easy to see because of the flood of light coming from the glass doors. The three of us shuffle as fast as we can to the entrance, which isn’t very fast because of all the shit we’re holding. Oak is practically waddling because of the imbalance from the baskets, but they still won’t let either of us carry one of them, probably out of pride. 

The door is still open when we get to it. Well, so much for that shopping cart Idea. Aaron trots ahead and rams into the cart to get it loose, and it clambers down the pavement. It’s not like the zombies are near us, but not close enough to get to us. But out of sheer paranoia, I drop the water case and pull the doors shut.

“Our car is out that way,” Aaron points to the grocery store. He looks in a decent amount of pain, which is probably from running straight into a grocery cart at full force. Speaking of which…  
I Pick the case back up and load it into the cart. In goes my bag, too, and my back feels less achy. I take the basket’s from Oak, despite their objection, and dump their contents into the cart. I can get a good look at them now. Their skin is dark, and their eyes are almost as black as you’d picture a black hole, but they’re soft. The top of their head has a mountain of curly hair that lays across an undercut and falls at around their ears. They wear a dirty t-shirt and a denim vest that’s covered in patches and dried mud. Their jeans are ripped and put back together with pieces of fabric, colored in different designs. Their boots are broken in and worn, the tongue is dipped and some of the outer fabric has chipped off. They have two lip rings and a nose ring, and a few tattoos creeping down their arms. Where their arm stops is a tattoo of what looks like a cutout from elementary school. A dotted line with scissors that says “cut here”. They have a sense of humor, I can see. And they’re probably a few years older than Aaron and I, because of all of their tattoos. 

Aaron dumps his bags in the cart, and we’re on our way down the road. I can’t see anyone when we get to the van, so we might be early.

I was wrong.

Every door to the van opens and out piles Dad, Ray, and Daniel. They look frustrated and bored. 

“Where the hell were you? We’ve been waiting,” Ray says, crossing his arms. 

“I was worried sick, Zach, I thought you died!” Dad shouts.

“And who the hell is this!”

Dan’s always known to get to the point. I look over at Aaron, who doesn’t look as distraught as I probably do. After all, his family isn’t with us right now, mine is. He nods and steps forward, ready to explain.

“This is Oak, they found us while we were scavenging. Apparently, you three make the zom’s pretty feisty for them. They’ve been alone for weeks. They helped us, we would have been longer if it wasn’t for them.”

The three of them are quiet for a moment. Ray moves forward and puts himself not even a foot away from Oak. They stand their ground against the drill sergeant esque. Oak’s even a little taller than him. 

“What’s with your arm?” He asks. Oak meets his eyes and cocks an eyebrow.

“I was born. Got a problem?” 

Ray squints his eyes at the comment and steps back.

“Did you check for bites?” He asks. I look at Oak, then back to Ray.

“No, it wasn’t exactly the best place to. That place is infested.”

He nods and looks Oak up and down.

“Can you hunt?”

“I’m a vegetarian,” They answer.

“Can you defend yourself?”

“Been doing it since I was born.”

“Can you scavenge?”

“Better than you can, sir.”

Something about the way they say sir sends a shiver down my spine.

I expect Ray to be mad at them, or at least annoyed. But there’s a tint of respect in his face. He cracks a smile and steps back.

“As long as you don’t have any bites, you’re free to come with. Daniel will check you. Zach, Aaron. Load this shit into the van, we gotta get going.”

I pull the cart to the back of the van and start tossing things into the back. In goes, our packs and the duffel, and the water case slides in under the passenger seat. I grab an empty bag and start filling it with the stuff Oak got.

Oak, a few paces away, is now getting borderline stripped down by my brother and they don’t look happy about it. Aaron notices what I’m looking at and turns around himself. He looks back at me with an amused face, then whistles at them. Daniel gives him a death glare, and Oak winks. 

I toss the duffel into the van and sit on the edge of the trunk. Aaron kicks the cart off to the side and sits beside me, and we watch the strip show. Ray and Dad are nowhere to be seen, but they’re probably doing one last check on the nearby snares. I notice a string of dead animals hanging from Dad’s seat and grimace. I’d rather see it as a steak than a dead animal.  
Daniel finishes feeling Oak up and throws their shirt at them. Oak catches it and laughs at his discomfort. Dan comes over and sits in between Aaron and me, beet red. Oak sits down on a parking block and we wait for Dad and Ray to come back.

A strange feeling sets in the air as we wait. After meeting Ray and being in the group, no one has been brought back. And after I started coming with them on raids, I didn’t see anyone that was chewed up. And now, here Oak is, very much alive and clean. It’s like, a few months ago it was completely normal seeing people all around and now there are only a few people I ever see. Finding someone new is almost a foreign concept to me. I’m not entirely sure how to act. I’m not sure Aaron or Daniel knows either. They’re just staring. Oak clears their throat awkwardly.

I’m relieved when Dad and Ray come back and start telling us to pack it up. I scooch in first and Aaron follows, sitting beside me against the van wall. Dan and Oak sit across from us. Ray starts the car and turns out of the parking lot.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a story of mine since I was 12, but this is a revised and renewed version. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
